Lean on Me
by queenOhearts
Summary: Santana is working in New York City but isn't as happy as she had though she would be. An unexpected person appears to help fix things. Bad summary, better story. Not a romance, unless you squint. Sebtana
1. Lean On Me

SPOILER ALERT: It has been hinted that Santana might end up working at Coyote Ugly now that she's in New York. That's all I have though…

DISCLAIMER: I do not own _Glee_ or any of its characters.

AN: Hi, I've only written one other fanfic (it's not really my thing) but I thought I'd do it every now and then to better my skills as a writer and keep my imagination fresh. I've been working on several novels but my mind has been feeling sluggish lately so I thought it was about time I gave it a kick.

Also, this is a Sebtana story. I know the whole Sebtana phase has long since gone, but I really like the pair. I would hate to see them together on the show because it would ruin their character dynamics and fanbase, but I like them in my head.

…

The mixture of booze, loud music, yelling men, breast, ass, and boots created a cocktail that did more than try to settle in my stomach before traveling back up through my esophagus and out of my mouth like some pre-show concoction that Rachel Berry whipped up. No, this mixture came through each of my senses, seeping through my skin, burning into my eyes, beating my eardrums, singeing my nose hairs, and engorging my taste buds. It soaked into both my heart and stomach and it made me sick!

My hair was sticky with sweat and my feet ached from walking on the hard bar with these uncomfortable cowboy boots. Tendrils of spittle and alcohol ran down my arms, into the cleavage of my breast, and down my exposed tan legs, having collected the two from the open mouths of the drunken men at my feet. The humidity of the many bodies in the room combined with the perspiration my own body was creating made my clothing damp, clinging to my body more so than skinny jeans on a fat man. I was disgusted.

When I took this job it had seemed like the best opportunity in the world for me. I could sing and dance and be sexy and get paid for it. I was tired of doing that shit for free. But after a week of being grabbed at by calloused hands, slipping on spilt beer, and singing the same old honky rock and country songs I kind of missed singing and dancing and being sexy for free because when I did that I was still a woman. Now I'm a slab of meat.

It was my third week on the job and I had learned to put non slip pads on the bottom of my boots. I had learned to wear a bikini under my clothes because they didn't stick to the body as uncomfortably as normal underwear. And I had learned to bring a towel and a jumbo sized container of sanitizer to work. A good wipe down and healthy dosing of germ killer all over my body during my ten minute breaks made me feel infinitely better.

But most importantly, I had learned to drone out everyone in the room but myself. If my coworkers needed me then I responded but otherwise I kept my mind to myself. This practice helped me get through the nights since it reminded me that in the end there will only be myself and only I can make me feel better. I don't rely on anyone else for that. Of course Rachel and Kurt are nice to have around when I'm trying to wind down, but they can't help me wash off my day.

So as I danced around and handed out beer one particular night, keeping to myself in my head, I felt a tug of something familiar and threatening in the room. The feeling was the same one I got in high school when I had transferred out of my AP English class into a regular English class halfway through the school year so I could spend less time studying and more time with the glee club. I felt superior to the other students in the class; they were nothing compared to me. But another AP student had transferred into the class as well and when he walked in his very presence challenged mine. It's the feeling of being met with an equal.

My eyes scanned the bar first, finding nothing of interest. Then I looked around the room, starting from the center and traveling backwards until I finally spotted a familiar face smirking at me. Without his Dalton blazer he was nearly unrecognizable but I never forget the face of an enemy.

With nothing else to do but continue working, I kept a smile on my face and carried on. However, I kept him within my eye throughout the night. It wasn't until the bar was closing and the last customers were being ushered out that he left my sight, through the front door with his eyes still on me. I found my breath again.

I took my time cleaning with the other girls. We laughed about the night and gossiped about what we'd be doing on our weekends. I even took my time changing out of my skimpy, sweaty clothes into a pair of jeans and a loose sweater. Oh, and the sneakers I pulled on felt like heaven compared to my boots. My nerves were no longer on end I was relaxed as I finally left the bar; so relaxed that I didn't notice him out front as I walked by him.

"Nice show, Lopez" he called after me. I spun around, pepper spray in hand only to be met by Sebastian Smith.

"What do you want, worm?" I hissed, taking a step back as he drew himself from the wall.

A smirk pulled at his thin lips as he made his way towards me. "I only want to catch up with a friend. Is that so bad, Miss Lopez?"

"If friend is the new word for enemy, then yes" I said with as much ice as my tired body could muster.

He laughed a genuine laugh, sounding odd yet soothing to my thrumming ears. His eyes sparkled when he spoke again. "Then I'm in luck," he said, "since I mean friend in no other way than its dictionary definition. So, a coyote, huh? It would be the perfect job for you if you were dancing for women, wouldn't it?"

For the first time since our conversation had started my face had shifted from its stony appearnce. "No, because then I would never be able to focus on my job and I'd get fired" I said. Feeling no need to defend myself against him I put my pepper spray back into my purse before I spoke again. "What about you? Last I checked, gay men normally didn't go to straight bars alone."

"Not unless they want to get laid. Straight bars are full of closet gays trying to look manly. I get some of my best one night stands from straight bars."

"Well, it seems to me like you're losing your touch, Smith. Instead of finding a man, you're stuck with a lesbian. Not switching sides, are you?" I taunted playfully.

Sebastian, however, began to scratch his head and tap his foot in an expression of embarrassment. "No, not really. I had actually run into Kurt sometime last week and he had mentioned you were working here. If I'm being honest, I came to see you."

My eyebrows shot into my bangs. I couldn't believe my ears but he had looked me straight in my eyes when he said that and I saw no lies. "Sorry, Smith, but I'm done with men. And even if I wasn't, I wouldn't dare try again with a homo. You probably wouldn't know which hole to put it in."

He cracked a smile, "Nah, we'd argue too much to be anything more than friends anyways. It's just, I moved to New Jersey a couple weeks ago but it's hard to make friends when everyone is intimidated by you. So when I ran into Kurt and he told me you were here I thought maybe I could just get along with you. Santana Lopez doesn't back down from a fight and she isn't afraid of telling me off. So, I thought, why not make a companion out of her?"

I was speechless. At a glance Sebastian Smith looked like a rich New York boy with the world in his belt. His hair was perfectly jelled, his white button-up was crisp and his dark jeans were fashionably faded and fitted. If I had seen him walking down the street I would have turned my nose up at him and walked in the opposite direction. But upon closer look, he looked lonely.

Sighing, I stuck my hands into the front pouch of my sweater and stared at him. If I was honest with myself, I would admit that I also felt lonely. Rachel and Kurt were amazing friends but they were in their own worlds. I was by myself and as much as I took care of my own, I was tired of being alone.

"Hey," I said, my voicing sounding weaker than I had intended, "there's a diner open down the street from where I'm staying. If you have nothing to do right now, would you like to go get something to eat with me? I've been craving pie and a root beer float."

With that Sebastian Smith smiled and nodded his reply. He walked forward and linked my arm through his, not saying a word but keeping a relieved and contented look on his face. I leaned into his side as we began to walk and for the first time in a while, I felt like I didn't have to watch my own back. He would be there to catch me if I fell like I had just done for him.


	2. Author's Note

AN: I had initially intended this story to be a oneshot so when I discovered that there were people following the story, and one person even requesting updates, I was really surprised. I had an idea of making it a multi-chap fic but I was satisfied with it as a standalone. However, I have decided to go ahead and add to the story. I'm also working on two other stories that I'm trying to update daily but because I work a full-time graveyard shift I will have to keep it at two stories a day. I will update this one weekly, and as often in-between as I can. You can look forward to a new chapter this Saturday night/Sunday morning. Thank you!


	3. Cold Hands

Disclaimer: I do not own _Glee _or any of its characters.

…..

His hands are perpetually cold. I came to learn this quickly after our first New York encounter. The night after our meeting outside of Coyote Ugly, he had come once again but instead of entering the facility he had waited outside until my shift was over. To my surprise he admitted to coming only to offer me a ride home. In his exact words "Even a woman as fierce as you should not walk the streets alone after dark."

Too tired to retaliate, I simply reached for the passenger side door but his hand did as well and for the briefest of moments our fingers touched. I was shocked to find that his fingers were ice cold, even with warm air of the spring night. But I didn't comment on it as he pulled the door open and ushered me into the shiny black BMW before speeding away to Rachel and Kurt's apartment. I felt like I was pulling a "Bella" since I couldn't take my eyes off of his hands. They weren't unnaturally cold, like vampire status, but more so than they should have been.

The second time I had noticed how cold his hands were was when he helped me move out of my friends' apartment after they had kicked me out. As I handed him a duffle bag his hand had wrapped around mine in search for the handle straps. Natural reaction caused me to pull my hand away quickly, dropping the bag before he managed to gain a secure hold of it.

"Watch it, Satin. If your hands become any looser your vagina will have competition," he remarked with a smirk as he bent down to retrieve the fallen duffel bag.

I didn't want it to seem like I had lost my cool so I put my hands on my hips and shot back "Coming from the man whore who takes dick where he can get it? Please, I thought you would be able to hold a handle properly after all the practice you've got."

With a stoic face, he stood up and slung the bag over his shoulder and then kicked my legs out from under me as he turned away whistling. Watching him walk out of the apartment from where I had fallen, my last thought of him was that there was no way his hands could have been that could after all of his practice either.

He had moved me into his apartment in New Jersey, with the pretense of having me help pay the rent. And in rent he meant buy all of the groceries and keep the place clean since all of the bills were paid for by his parents. When I had asked him what he was doing since he didn't have to work to pay rent, I discovered that he had graduated early from Dalton in order to attend university. When the Warblers were banned from participating in nationals after being caught for taking performance enhancing steroids to win regionals, he saw no reason to hang around when he had completed all of his credits. To my immense surprise, he was attending Montclair State University in their pre-med program and minoring in psychology. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be a physician or a child psychologist but he was leaning heavily on the first option. When I asked him why had chosen that profession to go into, he merely shrugged his shoulders and said that he liked kids. I felt like he was hiding something but I didn't push it.

Having Sebastian around was like having another me around, except he had a dick. We argued quite a bit about small, stupid things but other than that we got along well. We might fight about what to watch on the television one second and then we would be slumped over each other with laughter a second later watching Kevin Hart's most recent stand-up. It was on one of these occasions that I once again came into contact with his ice hands. He was flipping through channels, trying to settle on something that we would both like when I became frustrated with the amount of time it was taking him to find a suitable program. I grabbed for the remote but he pulled his hand away, trying to hold me back with his bare feet as I reached over him. Somehow, mid struggle, my foot got caught in one of the folds of his sweats and I lost my leverage over him, landing face first into his torso, his legs wrapped around my hips from his attempt to push me away. The hand that still held the remote control was held above his head but his free hand had rested on the small of my back that was bare due to my decision to get comfortable in a sports bra and boy shorts.

The moment was awkward to say the least. We were frozen with shock before we registered exactly what position we were situated in. Slowly we made eye contact, ignoring the sounds of a loud purple dinosaur coming from the TV. Sebastian's hand on my back slowly rose upwards, leaving a freezing cold trail up my spine. Panic soon began to set in as I realized what might be happening, and the same thought probably went through his mind because we both pushed away from each other the same time. His hand collided with my face as he tried to pull himself up on the couch and my knee ground into his groin as I tried to crawl away. I nearly ran from the room, leaving him near tears in a fetal position on the sofa.

We never spoke of the incident again, instead continuing on with our daily routines as if nothing had changed between us. He went to school and spent most of his time studying while I worked at night and slept most days. He would occasionally go out on a date with some random guy he had met at the university but he never scheduled them on nights I worked since he picked me up from work after every shift. I rarely came into contact with females outside of work, so I didn't go out on dates with anyone. I don't know if Sebastian didn't want me to feel left out or if he wasn't all that interested in the guys he saw, but he never brought any of them back home.

One morning, as we sat down for breakfast, he mentioned a guy from one of the apartments in our building wanting to take him out that night. Apparently he had stopped by earlier that morning while I was in bed to "borrow a cup of sugar". I urged him to go but he refused, reminding me that I worked and that he had to pick me up. "I can take care of myself. I'm a big strong girl" I said into my cup of coffee, looking up at him through my lashes.

"I don't doubt that you are," he smiled, "but the poor fool that approaches you one of these nights doesn't know that."

A smirk crossed my face and assured him that if I had managed to do fine by myself for a month before he had come along then I could do it again for one night. I wouldn't take no for an answer and told him that if he didn't go downstairs to accept our neighbor's offer that I would go down there myself and tell him that the date was on. He sighed his agreement and the subject was dropped.

That night had to have been one of my hardest nights at work since I had started the job. I had slipped numerous times on the bar top despite the pads on the bottom of my shoes. I had managed to somehow spill an entire glass of beer down the front of my shirt, much to the amusement of the men in the facility but just as much to my displeasure. By the end of my shift I was sticky, sore with bruises, ad exhausted. It took me a while longer than normal to leave the bar and I was too tired to be on guard.

Abruptly, I was shoved into a wall and a pair of lips attached themselves to my neck. I pushed frantically at the man that was holding me against the bricks but he wouldn't budge until I hiked a hard knee up into his nuts. He slouched over in pain, back-handing me in the face with enough force to send me to the ground. My knees and palms skid against the pavement and I could feel blood dripping down my chin. My hands searched for the pepper spray in my purse but the man had recovered and was on me before I could find it. He tore at my loose cardigan while I clawed at his face but when I smelled the liquor on his breath I knew that he wouldn't let up. My pride held me back from screaming for help, but even if I had there was no one around to her.

As I began to lose hope, the man's body was suddenly off of my own. I opened my eyes just in time to see Sebastian throw the man a strong punch into the face. The inebriated man fell with the single punch and he didn't get up. I was too scared to move but I didn't have to because before I knew I needed to even try, Sebastian had scooped me into his arms, his cold hands on my bare legs and recently bared stomach.

He placed me gently into the car before speeding home. We made it back to the apartment faster than it had ever taken us, but I barely noticed that. Sebastian parked streetside and carried me up the seven flights of stairs to our apartment. He rushed in, bypassing my own room and settling me onto his bed. He quickly left the room and returned moments later with a bowl of warm water, a cloth, and some gauze in his hands. Slowly, with gentle hands he pulled off my shorts and made work of cleaning my scraped hands and knees. His cold hands in contrast to the warm rag sparked my nerves, causing my knees to twitch away from his reach. Sad eyes looked up into mine before he went back to cleaning my wounds. After they were clean, he wrapped both my hands and knees with the gauze before he grabbed one of his t-shirts and pulled it over my head. Then he divested himself of his clothes and put on a pair of his own sleep pants. With quick feet, he traveled from the light-switch back to the bed where he climbed in next to me and wrapped me in his arms. In the darkness of the room, I found comfort in his warm embrace with his cold hands rubbing circles on my back.


End file.
